Date: early 1997
Format: Pensieve Memory
Relevance: Memory shows N Malfoy torturing another Death Eater- identity unknown- It also illustrates clandestine details of Malfoy Manor (sp. to charms on doors, hidden passage ways, and portrait inhabitants) as well as N. Malfoy's possession of a portrait of Phineas Nigellus Black.
Narcissa moves slowly through the house, her small footsteps nearly silent over the thick woven rugs artfully laid down the corridor. The portraits that she passes remain closed-mouthed, watching without word, even as her fingers move over the ridges and grooves of gilt frames. Her hair is unbound, a fall of silken blond, and nearly blends into the pale gold robes she's wearing. There is a quiet whisper as the silk brushes against a carved side table, but Narcissa continues to move as if she's heard nothing.
She stops in front of one pair of doors, carved with a scrolling M which she traces with two fingers. Her brows are furrowed, pale grey eyes underlined with sunken shadows. She doesn't move for a few moments, just standing and looking at where her fingers rest against oak. Finally she pulls her wand and casts a charm at the door; it glows pale blue for a moment then fades. She nods faintly, satisfied, then turns and continues on her way until she reaches another door that opens automatically before her. Narcissa moves through this one just as silently, passing the striped damask sofas and dark mahogany tables of her private sitting room. She pauses in front of one empty frame and taps on it. A moment later a man moves into it, dark hair and hard dark eyes and robes of deep green.
“Again, Cissa?” the portrait says in not quite a sneer. When she didn't respond, he continued but in a less sharp tone. “Do you think this will help?”
Narcissa's chin lifted in haughty defiance, though the gesture was paired with a faint quiver of her full lips.
He rolls his eyes at her. “Very well. But I expect you will show your gratitude to me when you return.” His eyes sweep over her with obvious interest.
She nods with the tiniest quirk of her lips, and as the portrait swings forward to reveal a narrow passage way, she murmurs, “Thank you, Phineas.”
Phineas huffs from the other side of the canvas. “Don't thank me with words, Cissa. I personally think you are fool.”
“Perhaps. But I have to try.” Her shrug is oddly constrained, with carelessness or exhaustion.
“Do you?” he asks.
“Of course. He's mine.” With that, she slips into the darkness, wandlight glowing into life.
She navigates the narrow corridor easily, turning corners smoothly and barely glancing at her feet as she descends down stairways. Finally she stops before a seemingly blank wall, her wand tracing over it. There is a slight shiver of stone then Narcissa steps through the wall and into a small room.
In the dark shadows of the corner of the room is a high whine of fear. Narcissa's expression is impassive as she walks closer, revealing a man, chained to the wall by his wrists. His eyes are wide beyond the mask he wear, and he shrinks away from Narcissa's wand. A quick flick of it raises him to his feet then another stretches his left arm out flat, forearm marked with skull and snake. Her mouth twists slightly when she sees it. The man starts to babble, pleading with her to free him, promising his silence.
Narcissa doesn't listen. After a few moments of contemplation her wand slashes out. The Death Eater's words are cut off, immediately transformed into a high scream as blood spurts across him, his arm cut down to the bone, the flesh where the Dark Mark is completely removed. She reaches into her pocket and pulls out two small vials, pouring first one then the other over the open wound.
The memory fades to black as the screams rise up.